


Memory

by sassmine_broden



Category: Ackley Bridge (TV)
Genre: Abuse, BoyxBoy, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, This is gonna be gay, ackley bridge but cory has DID, and sad, cory has no idea what is going on, keep yourselves safe folks, nothing too graphic but i tagged the archive warnings anyway, season 3 doesn't exist because it sucked and i didn't like it, there's some bad stuff in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassmine_broden/pseuds/sassmine_broden
Summary: He’d never lost two days before. His memory had never neglected to file away two days.Once he’d stopped shaking, he returned to biology and assured his friends that he was fine, despite feeling like a stranger wearing his own body.He looked at his notes; then looked again.That wasn’t even his handwriting.AKA the one where Season 3 didn't happen (I make my own stuff up) and Cory has Dissociative Identity Disorder
Relationships: Naveed Haider/Cory Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. The Child in the Moors

Cory blinked his eyes open.  
He was standing in the middle of some moors; heather rolling into gentle slopes in the distance. The sky was a roiling grey mess of intertwined clouds. The hills stretched out as Cory slowly turned; marvelling in the raw beauty the place possessed.  
A young girl was stood behind him; round blue eyes fixed upon him intently. Her nose was small, delicate, and her rosebud mouth was unsmiling. Long blonde hair fell to her waist. Her hands, in delicate lace gloves, were clasped in front of her. Her pink dress was frilly, falling to her knees.  
Cory was convinced she was a large doll until she blinked.  
“Um…” Cory said. “Hello?” Bad vibes just radiated off this child.  
“Hello,” The child said. Her face was expressionless: painted on.  
“I’m, uh, Cory,” Cory said, unease swirling leaden in his stomach. “What-what’s your name?”  
“Becca.” Her voice was small. “Ms. Nashita said to come get you.” Becca turned around and started walking away; delicately picking her way through the heather.  
Cory stumbled after her. “How old are you, Becca?” he called.  
She stopped and turned to face him. “5,” she said.  
“And, uh, you were sent to get me?”  
Becca nodded.  
Cory’s stomach began to tighten. “Do you live here?”  
“There.” Becca pointed to the dark beginnings of a forest.  
“Okay…” Cory said. “I’m gonna go.” He turned and ran, pushing through heather, away from the blank child that set his teeth on edge and spoke like an adult.  
Cory checked over his shoulder. Becca stood amongst the heather, watching him run, face passive. He shivered and ran faster.  
The path turned and a red phone box came into view.

Cory surfaced in biology: Naveed on his left and Riz on the other side of the table. His head pounded and the world was shiny around the edges.  
“You alright, mate?” Naveed whispered.  
Cory nodded, looking at the page of biology notes in front of him.  
“You just suddenly stopped writing.”  
“Headache,” Cory mumbled. He blinked and Becca’s emotionless face flashed in front of him. “Gotta go.” He stood up, dropping his pen in his notebook and leaving the class, ignoring Mr Hyatt’s indignant calls.  
His last memory was showering yesterday evening. Cory looked up, saw Becca standing part-way down the empty corridor and turned back around, eventually stumbling upon a bathroom.  
Cory pulled out his phone and checked the time.  
Oh.  
Two days.  
He remembered showering in the evening _two days_ ago. Cory took a shaky breath in.  
Cory was forgetful. He was constantly misplacing things, forgetting hangout plans, and who people were. He forgot how he got places, where he bought that item, and jokes with his friends that he was there for. Hell, he sometimes passed through days in such blurs that he forgot them.  
But he’d never lost two days before. His memory had never neglected to file away two days.  
Once he’d stopped shaking, he returned to biology and assured his friends that he was fine, despite feeling like a stranger wearing his own body.  
He looked at his notes; then looked again.  
That wasn’t even his handwriting.


	2. The Voices are Getting Louder

There was a…demon in Cory’s room. Well, it was maybe a demon. Cory hadn’t seen a demon before, but he supposed that they could look like this one did.  
The darkness swirled around in the corner of his room, solidifying into the _thing_. All of the stars in the sky were sprinkled across its skin. Bright, ultra-blue eyes blinked open, pinning Cory in a beam-like gaze. Long white hair tumbled to its chest. Long fingers-far, far too long- tucked a strand of the hair behind an ear. It had to stoop because it was too tall to fit upright in Cory’s room.  
“A lot of us are close.” The voice that came out of Cory’s mouth wasn’t his, wasn’t under his orders, wasn’t under his control. Panic began to collect and contract around his heart. The voice coming out of his mouth was pitched a little bit higher and softer than his with a lilt to the accent that he couldn’t place, not with the fog invading his brain. “Uh…I’m in control, but One’s hanging about and Cory is near.” Cory’s voice responded to a question he didn’t even hear.  
The thing in the corner did something with its hands, the long fingers deftly forming shapes and movements.  
“No,” Cory’s body said. “Not _everyone_ everyone. I think…Cory can see you, One. No, I don’t think he can see Maple.” He was responding to a conversation that wasn’t going on _what is going on_ -  
The creature formed more shapes.  
“He’s…scared?”  
Cory agreed.  
“Yeah, scared. Kinda…confused, maybe. He doesn’t know what’s going on, remember. He doesn’t know.”  
The creature formed more shapes – signed? Was this creature communicating using sign language?  
“Yeah, okay. Okay! Uh, hi, Cory -if you can even hear me, that is- my name is Nashita. You won’t remember me, but that’s okay.” Cory’s body -Nashita? - laughed slightly. “If you can see them, the really tall person with a skin woven from the night sky is called One. They won’t hurt you, Cory, I promise.”  
Distrust muddied the terror swirling in the pit of Cory’s stomach. Nashita carried on speaking, but Cory was sinking.

Cory liked Naveed. He was funny and his smile sent butterflies swarming through Cory’s stomach.  
He surfaced standing, looking at a drawing.  
‘Naveed said it’s from Jordan: to wish us luck before the big game with the scout?’ This voice was one of the young ones, but not one of the absolute youngest. Feminine and accented like home.  
Cory remembered the scout, vaguely, but it couldn’t be now, could it? He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready for this, he hadn’t had time to prepare or anything.  
Cory glanced at Naveed and offered him the paper. A headache pounded through his head and he was tired.  
A grin stretched across Naveed’s face.  
A butterfly tornado sprung up in Cory’s stomach.  
“Ey: that’s brilliant!” Naveed said, laughing slightly, still wearing that grin that made Cory do…  
‘Heart-eyes. You’re giving him heart-eyes,’ said one of the voices in his head, teasing. Feminine, Welsh.  
‘I am not!’ Cory grumbled back. Cory looked around the changing room, feeling dread settle -cold and clammy- on his skin.  
“I’m gonna blow this,” Cory said, out loud. “I know I am.”  
Naveed threw the paper aside and turned to give Cory his full attention. “Mate,” Naveed said, coming closer. “You’re not gonna blow this.” Strong fingers cupped his cheeks, grounding him from the dizziness reverberating through his being. “Say it.”  
Cory laughed slightly. “What do you mean?”  
“Just say it!”  
He was pulled to face Naveed. Cory felt like he was drifting away from his body, like he was viewing everything that happened down tunnels towards his eyes.  
Naveed’s eyes were pools of warmth, shining in the shit light of the changing room.  
“I’m not gonna blow this.”  
“Say it again.” Naveed pulled their foreheads closer, touching. Cory let his hand settle on Naveed’s shoulder.  
“I’m not gonna blow this.”  
“Go on, say it again!”  
“I’m not gonna blow this!”  
They were laughing; Naveed was Cory’s buoy in the storm. And they were so close. Cory could feel Naveed’s breath ghosting over his skin. The atmosphere dulled to simmering embers. Naveed lifted Cory up and there was a surge of brilliant gold bursting Cory’s heart.  
He pulled Naveed closer and they kissed.  
They broke apart, Naveed smiled slightly. He moved back in and Cory…couldn’t meet him. His body didn’t respond.  
“What are you doin’, man?” asked Cory’s body, tone low and dangerous.  
Heartbreak bloomed slowly across Naveed’s face and Cory’s heart splintered so painfully it must have been heard.  
The body had said it to both of them.  
‘We’re not a fucking freak,’ a voice in Cory’s head spat. His tone was low and gravelly, his accent the same as Cory’s or Jordan’s or anyone who grew up in Ackley. ‘We’re not dirty: we don’t kiss _boys_.’  
‘He’s mad.’ This voice was young and monotone: familiar. ‘You were too wrong.’  
Cory’s heart dropped. ‘Becca?’ he thought. And then…  
And then…  
Cory sank beneath the waves.

He was standing in the moors, again. This time, he was alone. The grey sky stretched above him; thunder rumbled ominously in the distance and lightning flashed occasionally, although no rain fell. He didn’t remember getting here. He was kissing Naveed in the changing room getting ready for the rugby matc-  
Oh, god, he’d gone and blown the match and any chance for Jordan’s safety and his safety and he’d just ruined everything by having a fog and ending up in some moors except _nothing felt right_.  
Cory patted his jeans, searching fruitlessly for his phone. He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He spun, slowly, scanning the moors. There was a phone box, before, right? Maybe he could call someone, find out what was happening? Cory jogged in the same direction he had run before.  
He rounded the corner, red vibrant against green, and approached. The box was filled with stars: the night sky. Two electric blue eyes opened, winked at him, and-

Cory broke the surface.

He was standing on the playing field. 

Cory took in everything he could through the headache and fog inside his brain. An ambulance. A crowd of people. Mr Bell looking worried.  
“What am I going to do: I can’t feel anything?” Riz’s voice rose above the crowd. Cory looked on at one of his best friends lying, unmoving, on a stretcher.  
The inside of his head was turmoil. Panic -so much more panic than he was used to- flooded his system. Voices were talking over each other.  
‘-didn’t mean to…she doesn’t know how to play rugby properly-’ Welsh, feminine.  
‘-wasn’t my fault, just did what I was tol-’ Child, also feminine.  
‘-NOT WHAT I MEANT HOW IDIOTIC-’ Ackley, angry, masculine.  
Cory wanted them all to shut up.  
“It was a high tackle,” Mr Bell said.  
The surrounding people looked towards Cory and the panic flared higher.  
“No, it wasn’t my fault.” His body sounded so young and so panicked. “He told me to do it!”  
‘I DIDN’T MEAN THAT, YOU TOERAG.’ Masculine voice.  
‘Gotta cover.’ Welsh voice.  
“He told me to wipe him out!”  
Everyone turned away and Cory ran his hand through his hair. He stepped backwards and backwards again and then couldn’t move anymore. His body whimpered.  
‘Fuck.’ Masculine voice.  
‘Language!’ A new voice with an accent Cory couldn’t place, but feminine.  
‘Becca, honey, it’s okay. Take some deep breaths, okay?’ Welsh voice.  
‘I can’t…she’s fucking stuck. How is this okay?’ Masculine voice.  
‘Not helping. At all. Becca, you’re doing great, okay?’ Unknown accent.  
“I don’t want-”  
Welsh voice shushed Cory’s body. ‘You have to be Cory, now.’  
‘I’m right here,’ Cory yelled, as best he could without his body. ‘I’m me, let me back. I’m _right here_.’  
‘Cory!’ Unknown accent exclaimed. ‘Oh gosh.’ The voice was surprised. ‘I don’t know- oh. OH.’ 

Cory sank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back at it with the second instalment. I have no idea where this is going but I have another chapter and a half pre-written? I got 3 lovely comments on the first chapter which made my day for each of them. Updates will be very sporadic because i'm *depressed* and struggling, so I'm sorry about that. If you have any plot suggestions, I would love to hear them because I don't know what I'm doing.  
> I hope all of your days were wonderful and that you're keeping safe.  
> All my love ^.^

**Author's Note:**

> haha thanks for reading lol. Hope you enjoyed!!


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